to give your heart a song to sing
by thissuperficialhypocrisy
Summary: "It's when they're lying atop of Kurt's bed Blaine feels… invincible – like he could take on the world and win for once." ;; Set between 'Heart' and 'On My Own'.


**You know when you write something and you're not sure why? ...Yeah, that was this. Anyway - Set between 'Heart' and 'On My Way' and there's minor spoilers for a character not yet introduced to the show. This was written while waiting for '8' to start for a friend, and when Rachel Yamagata's piano cover of Keely Smith's "I Wish You Love" played I got the sudden urge to write cuddling, and I've only managed to flesh it out today. Title comes from lyrics in the song. Enjoy!**

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><p>Blaine's glad that Sundays are supposed to be lethargic.<p>

The day has passed away in a haze not much to do and so much he _can_ do when he's with his boyfriend. His original plan of popping in for a brief visit and a quick conversation with the rest of Kurt's family before taking him on their bi-weekly trip to The Lima Bean quickly turns into assisting Finn decimate multiple hoards of zombies online and lending a helping hand to Carole as she makes the weekly Sunday meal – something completely unheard of under the Anderson's roof, but even if it were a common occurrence he's pretty damn sure that it wouldn't be anywhere close to how the Hudson-Hummel's have managed to find a way to take something so simple and make it _magnificent_.

The best element of the day, however, is simply being in Kurt's room with him in Blaine's arms as the late afternoon sun finally begins to creep under the horizon, when the only sounds that can be heard consist of Kurt humming lightly under his breath and Blaine shuffling around with the hope he could mould himself into the mattress until the end of time. You know, if it were possible, because it's when they're lying atop of Kurt's bed Blaine feels… invincible – like he could take on the world and win for once.

It honestly feels both terrifying and incredible and he wouldn't have it any other way.

Anyway, he can practically _feel_ his thoughts delve deep into his semi-dormant subconscious and reach the conclusion that these simple movements - his head lying on Kurt's chest, their limbs tangled in an indiscernible mess, hands linked together - make them KurtandBlaine and has some kind of effect on the way Blaine views the world around him.

It seems as though everything's finally falling into place – different from the last time he came to that conclusion, because back then all that mattered was the feeling of Kurt's hand holding him in place, lips moving in sync, cheeks flushing when he meets that gaze and _why is breathing even necessary I don't want to stop._

He knows this time is different. He's in a cocoon of warmth and safety when he's with Kurt, almost like he's being wrapped in cotton wool when he talks to Burt or gets coddled by Carole, even when Finn's around and gives him a slap on the back that would once remind him of his first public school he can tell that it means acceptance. It feels _right_.

They're breathing in staccato, occasional punctuation in the form of a sigh or a hum of delight, interludes making themselves known when they shift ever so slightly to allow blood to flow through slumbering limbs, the swell of a chest accompanying a steady beat that picks up when Blaine nuzzles himself impossibly deeper into the cotton covering Kurt's left pectoral muscle and lets out a content exhale of breath when manicured hands scratch lightly at the nape of his neck...

It's perfection under a canopy of silk curtains, above one-thousand count bed sheets, on decorative pillows far too comfortable for their own good, in a heart that occasionally stutters out promises of _New York_ and _You Take My Breath Away_ and_ I'll Never Say Goodbye To You_ and a door that's cracked open to appease a man who deserves so much more than the heartbreak he's had to endure throughout his life. It's more than Blaine's ever wanted and more than he's deserved in his seventeen years in Ohio, yet he's too selfish to give up the one thing that his father tells him is a mistake and his mother wishes was a lie, the one thing Cooper likes to remind him that makes him smile more than he has ever seen Blaine smile in his life (even more, apparently, than the time he met Mickey Mouse at Disneyland Florida when he was seven and Coop was fourteen, which is definitely some kind of feat for the Anderson brothers).

It's not as though it takes much for Blaine to light up when Kurt is around, however - one mention of his name and it feels like the world's suddenly brighter, McKinley less constricting, the Anderson household more welcome and the air around him lighter; like he could spread his arms and fly, soar above all the mistakes of his past and keep on going up and up and up until he's safe in the arms of an _angel_ -

"You're awfully quiet down there." breaks through the silence of his room, and Blaine notices that Kurt's hand is now tracing the figure eight on his shoulder (turning over to his side makes it infinity, the will to have that sign burned deep into his skin so its scar will remind him that what they have is permanent) and eyes downcast but so, so happy in the way they shine.

Blaine just hums lightly, kissing the skin closest to his mouth and giving a sleepy smile when Kurt squirms lightly at the touch. "Don' mind me," he burrows closer with the hope he can crawl into Kurt's heart and stay there until the end of time, "Jus' thinkin'."

Smacking his lips together, Blaine smiles as Kurt slides through his lose hold around Kurt's waist and stops when their noses are touching and he can count the eyelashes fanned across his cheeks. "Only good things, I assume," he begins, cut off when Blaine yawns and he can only reciprocate the movement, lightly swatting Blaine's arm with a hand lagging behind his current state of mind, "because I'm tired and you're comfy and falling asleep in your arms sounds _incredible_ right now."

"Hmm," Blaine mumbles, rubbing their noses in a drowsy eskimo kiss before letting his face fall into the crook of his neck. "Soun's good."

Silence soon falls over them like a blanket, acting like a barrier between the real world (where Burt and Finn, like they're just awakening from an afternoons worth of hibernating, are cursing under their breaths over football and Carol is humming to the radio while washing the dishes) and a place where the two of them go to when the world gets too much or they need a break from reality; where thoughts are planted like seeds on manicured lawns and allowed to root themselves and flourish when pondered on.

On the brink of sleep, rising up slowly from a haze of warmth and the stench of Kurt that clogs up his senses, Blaine remembers something important, something that was worth mentioning a short while ago and has only now developed fully between their kiss in the Sugar Shack and playing footsie under the table only mere hours ago.

"I will always think good things of you." he mumbles, head moving towards his clavicle in the hope Kurt can see how much these words mean to him, "When the world seems too much and people seem overbearing, it's like... you appear, and you clear the air," he sniffs, humming in delight at the sudden burst of Kurt that makes his toes curl and heart feel so much lighter, "like an air freshener."

And of course it makes sense in that state - that Kurt freshened up his life, made living in this town much more desirable, gave him a goal to reach (he remembers vowing after looking up from his Grandfather's pocket watch that he was going to do whatever it would take to make this boy smile again), made life bright again - and maybe when they look over this conversation the next morning after waking each other up with slow, closed-mouth kisses they'll wonder what the hell Blaine was rambling about that night and if Kurt was _really_ only a household cleaning item to him.

But for now, Kurt and Sleep together become an armour, and remind him of how protected he is from the outside world when the two of them are together.


End file.
